
Art by hvost
Delighted with the way this came out so a little longer text than normal.
My blood dripped to the ground, staining the creamy limestone, it would leave a trail that anyone with a nose, or eyes could easily follow unless I took action. Hekiab would be mad, more cleaning, why that triviality occurred to me just now I don't know, it was utterly ludicrous to be concerned about such things at a moment like this, and suppressed a slightly hysteric giggle.
Lifting my fingers to my shoulder, I probed the gashes, suppressing a groan of pain. They were deep but didn't seem to have reached any major blood vessels or tendons which was good. The damage was extensive however and my shoulder hurt worse than anything I had ever felt before, preventing me lifting my arm. A thick rope of sluggish red ran down the full length of my arm, having saturated the fur, along my fingers and dripping from the tips of my claws.
Looking around I spotted the linen drape, drifting lazily in the cooling nighttime desert breeze, it would serve. Otter claws may not be sharp, but they were more than sufficient to rip the fabric into strips, and I quickly bound up my shoulder. All members of the royal household received basic first aid training from an early age. Beyond the theory of my training, I was also well practiced, prince Aahotepre's love of hunting, had provided plenty of opportunities for me to hone my skills. Although, thank the gods, I had never had to deal with any serious injuries, hunting was dangerous and there wasn't an expedition in which someone didn't return with at least a few scrapes, cuts or other wounds which had to be field dressed before returning to the physicians and priests to do a proper job.
I wondered what had become of my friend. Should I go to the Royal apartments? Search for and try to aid him, or should I flee from Thebes, run to the countryside, to my family estates, departing hopefully unnoticed? If my prince was already dead, then surely the latter was my best and certainly safer course, but it wasn't a hard decision. I couldn't desert him if there was even the slightest chance that there was anything that I could do.
We had been friends for many inundations of the great river, since shortly after I was a child of 6, freshly arrived in the palace. My family had sent me to the court for tutelage, and to act as a companion for the prince. He and I were of an age, and my family of noble heritage, but with few chances of political advancement, (being of foreign origins we were outside of the normal hierarchy of the palace and considered neutral or at least not worth involving in the general power intrigues).
We had been born within the same month, indeed within days of each other, but the prince and I were as different as is possible for two energetic children of 6. His majesties lionine heritage had made him broad of shoulder and chest, strong, with piercing golden eyes, the first shadows of a black mane around his shoulders and atop his head, and a mercurial disposition. I was smaller, lighter, and more serious, my lithe otter physique making me look much younger than my age, and topped by the white hair which I hated but which others loved to ruffle. The first weeks of my stay in the palace had been a bad time for me. I missed home dreadfully and moped around, providing poor company for his majesty, who also wasn’t any too happy to see me and ignored me, and complaining loudly to anyone who would listen about this new interloper into his domain.
That changed with an incident which occurred about 3 weeks after my arrival, with the start of the inundation. Each great flood there was a huge celebration, the fields flooded and the workers were freed from their labors for a while. The people gathered to relax, thank the gods for their beneficence and for the promise of a fuitful next harvest. Great celebrations and rites were held all along the river banks and the Royal household even moved to the ceremonial palace closer to the river with its royal dock, to join the crowd and lead the flotilla of ships which would cross to the great temples on the solstice.
Up to that point I had lived on my families rural estates upriver, along the border with Nubia, and had never seen a city so huge and magnificent, or any sort of celebration comparable to the wild riot of colors and masses of people who thronged the temples and river banks for the great inundation festival of Thebes. The entire court was in an uproar, packing, moving, unpacking, preparing feasts, everyone with too many jobs to do and running feverishly around. The excitement of the event broke through my melancholy, and it had been easy to slip away unnoticed in all of the bustle and confusion.
I was sneaking along, hugging the postern wall, making my way toward the gate and then out into the city when I was grabbed from behind, a paw clamped over my mouth.
“Quiet.”
It was Aahotepre, it seemed the prince had the same idea as myself. He vowed me to secrecy, and we slipped out of the door together spending the most marvelous afternoon lost and anonymousamidst the crowds. I had brought a few gold talents with me, and so we purchased a few, normally forbidden, sweetmeats and pastries stuffed with walnut paste and dripping with honey (the prince, not used to such matters had not thought to bring any money).
As the afternoon drew to a close we sat in the sun, on the plinth of the great obelisk marking the processional way to the precinct of Amun-Re. Licking honey from our fingers and claws and watching the crowds bustle past. The mass of mixed citizenry, cheetahs and ibexes of the upper river, the lions and buffalo of the middle Nile, the gazelles and foxes of the deep desert. All dressed in a riot of different festival colors, all hurrying along with their own purposes, bearing foods, gifts, and dressed in their finest for the festivities.
"Maybe it will be good to have you around after all." he said, extending a hand.
My homesickness forgotten I grinned and grasped him by the wrist in return. That was the start of our friendship, of course we caught hell when we tried to sneak back in, our absence had been noticed and the guards had combed the palace and grounds and were now on high alert. I had been sore from the punishment for days after but it was worth it, every stroke. Although we were only in the ceremonial palace for the one month of the celebration, it was enough to cement our friendship, and I look back on that time as one of the happiest and most carefree of my life. We were young enough that there were few expectations and demands on our time, so we ran wild, swimming in the river (the only physical feat at which I far outshone his highness), scaring the waterfowl, and hunting imaginary crocodiles amongst the fantasy reed beds of stone pillared halls, creating a glorious racket and disturbance.
After we moved back to the main palace, and the celebration was over, it was decided we *ahem* suffered too much freedom, and so studies, our training started in earnest. Although neither of us we untintelligent, we were at best indifferent students having only passing interest in formal studies and far too much energy to sit still, we took every chance to play truant. Much to the exasperation of the Royal household, the tutors, and most particularly the palaces major domo, Hekiab. He was a portly vain buffalo, who reveled in the importance and respect which his position gave him, kept his horns well polished and his robes a spotless white. Two children who delighted in breaking the rules, and bringing home as much mud, dirt and bugs as paws, fur and loincloths would allow, were the ultimate disruption to his universe. Unable to criticize the prince, I was the one who generally bore the brunt of his criticism, and more than a few cuffs of his (trust me) hard hooves, but it was worth every curse and clout, for the freedom and fun which we found on such exploits.
I admit with shame, that we also took to teasing him, following him around the palace, dirtying the places he had just inspected and disordering things which he had just overseen being tidied became a fun game for days when weather or events denied us wider freedoms. His muttered comments and stamping hooves warned us of his approach, so he never caught us directly and could only fume in the echos of our stifled laughter facing the resulting messes. As we grew older, our lessons took up more of our time, military training, and hunts, took more of our time and we lost interest in such things, but he always was short tempered with us thereafter.
Years passed and we grew, a good diet, and constant physical training showed, I grew to a strong young man, my reflexes and martial skills had given me a solid physique, but I should always be short, and slight of stature, only slightly larger than the Fennecs. Aahotepre, blessed by his royal lineage seemed to pile on muscle at the mere thought of lifting a sword and grew faster than the papyrus. Presently I only came up to his shoulders, then as his black mane filled in, I only came up level with his chest. My stature became a source of continuing annoyance to me, and a problem for our martial training, I tried continuously to keep up with him, but couldn’t reach as far, swing as hard, run as fast.
As our sparring continued with wooden blades, I was becoming vastly overmatched by his physique. Seeing my frustration, and also an opportunity to bring in new challenges and techniques the royal arms master took us on different tracks. Aahotepre focusing on heavier weaponry, which he could wield and which would suit him better. Such weaponry was the tradition of the royal family and worked well after they were no longer mounted in the war chariots and were on foot. When wielded well and backed up by shieldbearers and members of the royal bodyguard acting in a unit it was difficult for anyone to attack, and deadly to face.
For me he selected a lighter shorter sword and long dagger, and I trained me in the desert style, focused on lightning speed, evasion, reading my opponent, spotting an opportunity, then darting in with a strike and then flowing back out before the counterstrike. This would be less useful in a pitched battle where safety depended upon shields and protecting your neighbors, but was highly effective in smaller groups or in single combat with larger opponents where to close would mean death. Although I dearly longed to be able to match the prince blow for blow I was at least able to maintain some degree of challenge to my friend. Our bouts ended invariably with me being knocked to the ground, nursing a bruised arm, leg or side but I was able to get in at least a couple of hits of my own first. Sometimes I nursed the conceit that these would have ended the fight earlier if we had been fighting with real weaponry.
Aahotepre's passion for hunting I believe developed partly in response to this greater pull on our time, as a form of escape from the strictures and structure of palace life and duty which bound us more closely with each passing season. Outside of good hunting seasons he would listen to the petitions which came in from all over the kingdom. As soon as one came in complaining of people menaced or taken by the wildlife of the desert, or the river, he would organize and lead the expedition to deal with the menace. Although I didn’t share his driving passion for these hunts, I loved the journeys, the packing of everything which would be needed for weeks of travel and survival, the chance to see a new town and the people.
It was on one of these hunting trips, in the year of my sixteenth inundation, that everything changed. We had been despatched to deal with a rogue elephant responsible for the destruction of a granary and the deaths of the two cubs of the cheetah plaintiff. Word reached us of the death of his father, the pharoah Anati, beloved of Ra. His death was complete unexpected, as he had been in full health when we had left, but death comes fast and from many directions, even for the beloved of the gods, insects, food, accidents, the will of the gods could be fickle. We turned around, and hurried back to the palace, a more somber party than the one which had set forth less than a week before in such high spirits. Aahotepres mother, Hentaneb, had died with his birth, and his father inconsolable, in mourning, had refused to remarry and with Anati's passing there was a no immediate person to ascend to the throne.
Aahotepre, being too young to rule, would need a regent for the until his ascent to the throne in some two years, so the lords of the three kingdoms met and appointed one from amongst their number. Sakir-Har, an elder jackal, from the lower kingdom was selected, he was the greatest of the three lords who ruled over the swampy northern delta, from his palace at Lahun. A large man by jackal standards I only came up to his shoulder, with broad shoulders and a strong jawline he cut a distinguished figure, darkly furred with a frosting of white along both sides of his muzzle, he must have been dashing in his youth. He was an experienced administrator and leader, had managed his lands successfully and repelled numerous invasions from across the Sinai. He would supervise and provide guidance for the two years until my friend was of an age to take up the reins.
He was a gift from the gods and managed to weld the diverse opinions and bind the power struggles of the council back together to a single cohesive body rapidly, the uproar of Anati's death was quickly and professionally quietened. The funerary procession and ceremony carried out without a hitch, the body of the departed king preserved for all time.
To manage the kingdom more efficiently he brought in some additional advisors of his own, strictly in a secondary role, and at his own cost, lest charges of embezzlement should be levelled, and with each one came guards. This caused some rivalry between the established palace order and these new arrivals, but he kept tight control on his own people and any troubles which occasionally emerged were rapidly and impartially, if a little harshly, dealt with. The guilty party, his own man, or member of the court, the offender often smarting under the lash.
He drew Aahotepre further into the councils, grooming him for leadership and continuing the job his father had been doing, readying him to rule. Not a member of the council, I had the more dubious pleasure of standing around at the back of these endless meetings, it was assumed that I would become an advisor after the prince rose to be king so I needed to be familiar with the council. For the moment however my role was to stand, silently, for hours, “learning” from the collected wisdom of the council. The wisdom that I most admired at the time, was that the council was wise enough to have seats for themselves whilst making everyone everyone else stand, ensuring that they could, if nothing else outlast anyone else in the room.
It was the start of the dry season, harvest looked good and the crops were ripening nicely in the fields according to the ibex scribe who had just left, the next order of business was a series of attacks by hippos, a short distance down river. Predictably, Aahotepre, stuck in the council chambers for months now, immediately volunteered us to deal with the animals, and wouldn’t listen to any objections.
Accordingly we started preparations for departure that same afternoon, as Aahotepre was determined to head out early the next day. This sudden event may have saved our lives, as much as anything else, shortening a planned timeline and dictating a more rapid move. As I settled on my bed to sleep that night I was carefree looking forward to the morrow, possibly the last time I will ever be able to go to sleep that completely at ease.
It must have been several hours later when I awoke, my small oil lamp had gone out, and my chamber was lit by the faint shine of the crescent moon, coming in through slits high up on the wall, and from the balcony. The fine woven linen curtains fluttered and snapped in the breeze. Something had woken me, but I was fairly certain it wasn’t the snap of a curtain. Something else, but what? My speed and training served me well, a shadow detached itself from the headboard and I didn't wait to see details as it lunged toward me, I was already in motion, rolling aside. The bronze claw extenders,which had been meant to pierce my chest instead gashed deep furrows in my shoulder, and embedded themselves deeply in the bed as I rolled further, falling from the bed to the ground.
My left arm burned yet felt curiously numb, but my right was unharmed, reaching out, I felt the tip of the scabbard, on the ground, where my sword leant up against the chair. I pushed, the tip slid forward, the pommel of sword fell forward toward me and into my hand, just as I had hoped.
The assassin had freed his claws and was advancing purposefully toward me, the shadows of the room preventing his seeing that I was now armed. As he advanced he passed through a beam of moonlight and I could see the golden fur and short muzzle, scraggly mane surrounding his face, the black ear tips, the distinctive white marking under his left eye. I may not have known his name, but I recognized him immediately, he was one of the bodyguards who had come up with the latest batch from Lahun. I scrambled backward as if afraid (there wasn’t much acting for this part) concealing my sheathed blade in the shadows of my body, then as he came into range I flicked and swept with my sword arm in a single motion. The flick sent the scabbard clear across the room, freeing the blade, and then the sweep drew the sword up and across his neck. I felt the resistance of flesh and cartilage parting beneath the blade as it cut through his neck, a single stroke propelled by years of training and the strength of desperation. He grasped at his throat, silenced forever, and pitched forward. His blood a rapidly spreading black shadow on the floor. I struggled upright and moved toward the door, intending to call for the guard, when I heard another voice.
“Hurry, once this one is dead we have others on the list, and there are still many guards left alive.”
The entire encounter had taken place in almost total silence, the bed absorbing the sound of his blow, the flight of my scabbard muffled by a curtain, and then the assassins death making no more noise than the rustling of the curtain. I realized that there was another just outside the room keeping watch, waiting for his colleague, having deemed it only needed one to strike someone dead in their sleep. Then the import of his words struck me. "Others", Aahotepre, my prince, was in danger, this was no personal score, it could only mean treachery of a larger scale, it had to be Sakir, the blow would be deadly from such a close and competent advisor.
How many bodyguards and soldiers had Sakir got in the palace and city, fifty, one hundred, five hundred? I wish I had paid more attention but I hadn't even considered such an event. With surprise on their side with number even at the lower end of my guesses, it would be enough to overpower the household guard. Maybe, if the full guard, stationed outside the palace, could be roused it could be put down, how many of them would be loyal, and would they be able to react in time?
I heard the soft pad of unshod feet on the stone, and a long muzzled head poked around the edge of the doorway, its pointed ears and neck clearly outlined in the light from the constantly burning corridor lamps. His eyes, fresh from the well lit corridor didnt adjust instantly to the darkness of the room, and before he could spot me or make out the body of his colleague I jumped forward janking him into the room. He staggered forward, reaching for me, off balance. By luck his claws caught and ripped my left ear painfully, but it was to be his last act. Before he could regain his footing, I brought the edge of my sword under his chin and cut deeply. His ka fled from his body, his blood pooling alongside that of his companion on the floor.
I had been lucky, darkness and the element of surprise had helped me twice now, both of the assassins had died silently and quickly without having the chance to make noise or alert others. Once outside my room I could no longer count upon it continuing.
My blood dripped to the ground, staining the creamy limestone, leaving a trail that even the most scent blind could follow. Hekiab was going to be mad. I clamped my fingers to my shoulder suppressing a groan as this pulled open the gashes….
The makeshift dressing wasn't great, and my left arm still burned and hung numbly. I hoped that the blade hadn't been poisoned, but had neither the time the herbs nor the dressings to do a better job, or to deal with it further. I had made my decision, providence smiled in that my pack, prepared for the hunt, was ready to go, its bulk and spear would be a danger to me at the moment, but it contained all that we would need for at least a few days and I moved it to the balcony.
Taking the rope, which had been coiled on top, I attached it to a corner of the bed. If. No, think positively. When, I had got the prince we would need a way out. My room looked out onto the gardens, a small well maintained oasis within the palace. As a minor member of the court I normally wouldn’t have rated such fine quarters, but the prince had insisted, and we now had reason to be grateful for his obstinacy.
I crept into the hallway, it was empty, as I moved cautiously along its length, darting from statue to statue, I spotted the slumped form of one of the palace guards, hurriedly concealed behind a statue of Osiris. One guard at least had been loyal, and paid for it with his life, there was no sign of others. Maybe he hadn’t gone quietly, could it have been the noise of his death struggle that had awoken me, saving my life, I didn’t wait to check how he had died. I whispered a blessing to his spirit, and continued down the the corridor into the colonnaded hall.
This large beautifully painted room was the meeting point for all of the residential wings of the palace, and separated the quarters from the public side, with its meeting rooms and audience chambers. In a few hours it would be busy, it's large court and pillared cloister thronging with people, but right now it was silent, lit only by the light coming from each of the entry halls. Again the guards who should have been here were all absent, and it was eerily quiet.
Years of practice in sneaking around the palace had taught me the best ways to remain unobserved and I had automatically crept behind the pillar to the left, moving from shadow to shadow. I was about to move on to the next pillar, when I heard footfalls. The flick of an ear, and I was able to tell the direction, they were coming from the advisors wing. I lent forward carefully, until I could see the shadows that were cast across the court, but not so far that I would be visible to them.
From the shape of their shadows, it was obvious that they were more jackals. Almost all of the jackals in the palace had come with Sakir from the north, furthermore I could see that they were armed. Certain that they were up to no good, I was glad of my concealment and pressed back against the cold stone of the pillar, drawing my tail close and making sure that no part of me was visible.
“Come, this way.”, one gestured with a paw, and they moved off toward the corridor of the royal wing.
I crept soundlessly behind them, keeping my toes and claws pulled as far up as possible, walking with the flat of my pads, to avoid scraping a claw or making any other sound on the stone. With them facing away from me now, I risked peeking out around the pillar, to see them properly. I was right, two of them, both jackals, neither of them guards whom I recognized. One held a spear, the other a set of claw extenders, like my own would be assassin. My heart leapt, if they were headed to the princes chambers now, then that meant I wasn’t too late, Aahotepre may yet live.
Other than those two, myself and the statues of the gods lining the walls, the Royal corridor was empty. Where were his guards? There should have been four of them standing watch outside his bedchamber, along the walls, watching for trouble. Instead, only the assassins to be seen. I hesitated, hiding behind a large statue of Hathor, what should I do, call for help, try to take both of them myself? If the guards were missing then it was probably too late to call for help, anyway, I may the only help right now in the whole palace, certainly I was the only help nearby. Whilst I thought, they reached the entrance to my friends bedroom and, with a motion to the second to wait outside, the one with the claws moved inside. His friend watching from the doorway.
They were separate, to try to fight both, injured as I was would have been certain death, instead, here was an opportunity. I had not a minute to lose, while he was looking into the room I ran down the hallway toward him, silently as I could. You cannot run and be silent however, the scraping of my claws of the slap of my bare feet betrayed my presence. Alerted, he turned as I approached, spear raising, much too slowly however to be of any good to him, spears are a wonderful weapon when your enemy can be held at a distance. Once your opponent is within their range, they become little more than an entangling annoyance, especially when faced with one who had been trained as I had.
The jackal opened his mouth to howl a warning I closed the remaining distance and embraced him, bringing my sword up, in, under the ribs on his left side slicing through his vitals under his ribs to the heart. His eyes widened, and lost their focus, glazing over. Osiris would have to weigh this heart in two separate scales, and I doubted either half would be lighter than the feather of Ma’at. His final breath departed in a long slow exhalation, and he collapsed limp against me.
His spear, freed by his failing grasp tumbled free, falling toward a noisy encounter with the floor. It would alert his friend, but what could I do, my right hand held my sword, my left numb and useless, it was taking all my balance and strength to prevent collapsing under his dead weight. Thinking quickly, I swept my tail around, the sharp bronze blade cutting small furrows in my flesh as the spear caught, rolled down silently, then stopped where I had crooked up the tip.
I lowered the body to the ground, and peaked around the doorframe. The princes room was lit by two oil lamps hanging above his desk, but his bed was in shadows. In the midst of these shadows I could make out the shape of the assassin, arms raised, ready to strike.
He was too far, there was no way i would make it in time I charged. Remembering my lessons in command, I called out “Halt” as powerfully as I could whilst I sprinted forward. Whether due to a lifetime of military obedience, or the shock of the unexpected I don’t know, but he turned to look, giving me the seconds of delay I needed and I barreled into him, my momentum sending us crashing forward onto the bed. I desperately grappled with the assassin, I had dropped my sword when we had collided, not that it would have been much use in these close quarters. I was smaller than my opponent, with one arm pretty much out of action, even with my training, it wasn’t long before he overpowered me. One clawed paw cut deep furrows in my chest as he held me down, the other raised to end my life.
A growl, a flash of non metal black claws, and the weight on my chest was gone. The assassin screamed, one half of his face now a mass of lacerated flesh, the eye missing. With a second blow Aahotepre knocked him unconscious, or dead, to the ground, I didn’t care which.
“Sire, you must come with me. Treachery.”
I struggled for breath and the room swam before my eyes.
"Your guards, gone, you are in danger."
“Hush, you are hurt." He said, checking me over, noting the blood drenched field dressing on my arm, the gouges in my chest, the numerous scrapes and cuts.
"I'd like to bind those, but right now they aren't life threatening, and we cannot stay here. Do you think you can move?"
I nodded, lying, and his disbelief was obvious. He wasted precious moments handing me a rock crystal goblet from his bedside. I gulped down the water within, its icy flow down my throat chilling my stomach, it worked magic however and i felt refreshed, the room, which had been swimming before my eyes steadied a little. I felt strong enough to trust my voice not to quaver and gave a proper answer.
"Yes sire, I can do what's needed. If we get back to my room I have a way out, then escape to the barracks, rally the army."
"As good a plan as any, and the further we are from here, the safer. Come, lean on me."
He looped an arm under me and I was grateful for his strength as he levered me up to my feet, and half led, half carried me a few steps, my legs shaking under me.
"You can do it." We walked me to the door, and he checked with a quick glance that the hallway was clear we moved out. He was right, I could do it, as the shock receded, my resolve and my legs stiffened and I was able to walk, only slightly unsteadily, back down to my rooms.
Thankfully we met no further trouble on route and my quarters were as I had left them.
"Good work" he commented, gesturing at the two dead assassins decorating my floor.
He took in the rest of the room at a glance, spotting the rope and hunting pack.
"I guess I had better carry the pack given your arm. It'll be just like that time when you messed up against that warthog in Toranth."
"You know I was saving your life too that time." I blurted, it had been a long running discussion.
"I seem to recall some nonsense statement like that before, what was it you claimed?"
He kept his voice light, sensing I needed the support of something normal
"Oh yes, that's it, you claimed that it would have made it all the way up along the spear I had just stabbed it with until you leaped in and finished it with your sword." He smiled.
"I seem to recall things differently, I remember that you stumbled, and that you just happened to fall forward, getting your arm ripped on his tusks. It was pure luck that your sword hit the creature at all." He knew as well as I that even with my sword in its neck, the boar had clawed its way within inches of him before dying.
The memory was a fond one and we had often teased each other about it. The sight we presented after the hunt, both of us covered in blood (much of it my own), emerging from the forest, leaning heavily on each other had so terrified the Royal attendants that two of them had fainted. The doctors had spent longer dealing with the hysterics than with my injuries, which had only taken a couple of quick stitches.
I knew that he was talking just to keep me going, re-ground me, but even knowing that it worked and I needed every single bit of strength I had as we started climbing down the rope toward the gardens below. The prince had insisted on going first despite my protestations that I may weaken and fall on him my injured shoulder was weakening rapidly and was a solid mass of pain.
We had barely started down when we heard a noise below. I risked a glance down, a patrol, more northeners. They were just below us and off to the right, thankfully we had not gone far enough and we were still fairly invisible against the ornamental stonework, the rope hung below us, swaying with our movements, coiled at the base. For the moment it was unnoticed, but it wouldn’t be long. Aahtopre froze, and I gritted my teeth, locked my bad hand in a death grip around the rope, I reached with the other toward my sword hilt, ready to throw myself down upon them, sweat immediately starting to form with the pain.
Across the garden another shadow moved, I stared, trying to make out the shape. Moonlight glistened off a pair of polished horns as Hekiab stepped into the moonlight, his eyes flicked up to us, my heart stopped. He took in the scene at a glance, I saw his broad nostrils flare and his ears flicked. Then he strode purposefully to the right, deliberately into the line of sight of the patrol, his hooves clapping loudly on the stones.
“Halt who passes.” He was immediately challenged, they ran forward past the rope unnoticed, and up to him, seizing him roughly.
“Its I, Hekiab, sirs.” He said in his most ingratiating tones. “I was just doing the rounds, drawing up the list of tasks for the day.”
“Come with us, struggle and you die.” They grasped him firmly, and marched him off, leaving the garden empty.
We owed the old buffalo our lives, I let out a breath, barely stifling a scream of pain as I was able to release the pressure on my bad arm.
By the time I reached the bottom it was only the princes arms steadying me that stopped me falling to the ground, and coudln’t have held myself on the rope a second longer. The palace was silent, although it had only been minutes since the attempt on my life, it seemed like hours, our luck couldn't hold. There was no way to know how much longer our absence would remain undiscovered, the army held our best hope of safety, but to reach them we had to get out of the secured palace. Our years of truancy and detailed knowledge of the palace served us well, we avoided another patrol at the far side of the gardens, and a second by the kitchen entrance.
The postern gate, our favorite exit, was both well lit and well guarded, and not by the palace guard. More of Sakirs private troops stood sentry, and they looked alert, carefully watching the inside and guarding the door. I slumped against the wall.
"I'm sorry, there's no way we can get past them quietly, not with me like this. Maybe I can distract them, and then you can sneak past."
"No, you are not spending your life like that. There are other choices. I'm going to let you in on a secret only known to the family."
Grasping my arm he pulled me back upright and back toward the stables. The horses nickered and stirred as we crept in through the doors.
“Their odor will hide our scent. Its why the passageway was added here.” Aahtopre commented.
The horses were spooked by the smell of blood, but had been trained for pulling a chariot into battle, so didn’t neigh or make much noise. They also knew us and our smell well, and so were quickly settled at a quiet murmur from the prince. He pulled me toward the Royal chariot enclosure and inside the stall as we squeezed past the stays we heard the first sounds of alarm drifting through the night.
Two voices approached, hard boots ringing on the stone, they passed along outside the stables, their words muffled but still distinct.
"Find them." It was Sakirs authoritative tone.
"kill them, if you fail then it will be your death. Also, double the guard on all the gates, we cannot have the prince escaping before our reinforcements arrive and we have the whole city sealed and under martial law. Is there word?"
"Yes my liege, we just heard, your plan was a complete success, the army was taken completely by surprise. It's commanders have been rounded up, killed or arrested, and they are just mopping up now. There is no chance of any organized resistance from that quarter. Once they are complete they will send replacements to the city gates and walls."
"Excellent, at least that went according to plan." There was an edge of menace in his voice, and as the footsteps moved further off the discourse faded into an imperceptible murmur.
It was too dark for me to see anything of Aahotepre, other than the gleam of his eyes in the dark, and I fixed on these.
"What now sire?" I was downcast, I had pinned my hopes on my plan of quickly fleeing to the barracks and putting down the insurrection. That path now appeared closed.
He pondered for a moment, then "the hunting expedition boat is readied. I'd trust that crew with my life, and as it wasn’t readied until late yesterday, its possible that they haven’t thought of it. We will head there, and then flee south, upriver. Sakirs troops and power base lie to the north, in the delta, and that is where people will be loyal to him. My families origins lie to the south with the Nubian kingdoms, and in that direction lies our best chance, we shall flee in that direction, and then see."
Having decided, he swung back into action, pulling me into the far corner, above us the leather reins and tack hung, well oiled and arranged on pegs, or laid out neatly on shelves. Running his fingers along the underside of one of the shelves, he stopped, and with a sharp tug pulled something unseen. A click, and part of the wall shifted and then swung open revealing a doorway leading in and down into total blackness.
“Go on.”
I had to duck, and the prince was forced to bend almost double, to fit through the gap and as the door swung shut behind us absolute darkness closed in. Strangely I actually felt safe, for the first time since waking up, huddled here in the darkness pressed against the prince.
"Clack", a percussion, sounding deafeningly loud in the small space. "Clack, clack", a shower of sparks and the warm glow of a lantern illuminated the tunnel. The passage revealed was scarcely wide enough here for his shoulders, and I could see that it narrowed further at the edge of the lamplight. Around us were numerous alcoves, stuffed to the very top with all matter of carefully wrapped parcels and goods.
"Do you think that you can carry anything?"
"It's only my arm and chest that are hurt, and my tail, ears, I tailed off.”
This wasn’t the way to say it.
“My legs are fine, your majesty, I can carry anything." I protested.
In the light I could see the doubt written large on his face, and disbelief in those golden eyes. I gazed levelly back at him, challenging him to correct me.
"Ok," he nodded acquiescing.
"There is a stash of money, weapons and other things we will need here." He gestured toward the alcoves.
"It was intended for more than just the two of us, and we don't have time to pick and choose in detail, but we can get the essentials. Here, you carry this."
He bundled some bags and packages up in a blanket, looped one end under my arm and tied it across my opposite shoulder. Forming a serviceable, if slightly bulky sling, apart from the occasional scrape against my chest wounds it would be no difficulty to carry. He then picked up a sword and scabbard, looping it around my waist and cinching it tight with a firm motion.
"Much better, now your hand is free." He said taking my old bloody weapon from my hand, I'd forgotten that I was even carrying the thing, and gazed at my bloodied hand as if seeing it for the first time.
He claimed a second and much larger parcel for himself along with a sword and a couple of daggers. Finally he threw a dark cloak over me, and as the folds settled he said "These may be hot, but they will help us to stay unobserved in the city, and will hide that white crest of yours. Right now secrecy is our best chance."
I shook off my stupor "Highness, we need to move now. You heard what he said about reinforcements. We have to get out before the net closes around us."
Nodding he turned and started down the tunnel, carrying the only light. I followed close behind, almost touching the tip of his tail as the tunnel dipped and rose, twisted and turned, finally emerging behind another concealed door in a house somewhere on the river side of the palace.
As we emerged from the tunnel Aahotepre raised a finger to his lips, signaling for silence, he doused the lantern, slid the bolt and cracked open the front door of the house. A furtive glace outside showed all clear, and he gestured for me to follow. So we proceeded, darting alley to alley, house to house, hugging the shadows,down toward the docks. The city, and particularly the docks started work early, thankfully that also meant that right now everyone was asleep, and we easily avoided the noisy city watch patrols on their rounds, word had not yet spread of the goings on at the palace. We went unobserved by no one other than a drunkard, reeking of beer and wine crawling home along the gutter and he barely glanced in our direction as we passed him.
The Sabt bobbed at anchor, it's densely packed reeds brushing softly against the dressed stone as the lapping of the river raised and lowered it. The ships captain and crew were sleeping aboard, and awakened instantly as we stepped aboard from the shore. Presuming us to be robbers and thieves, they surrounded us, naked blades in hand.
"Stay" Aahotepre quietly commanded, lifting the hood of his cloak.
"Sire" the captain, a powerfully built ibex with a large pair of curved and ridged horns, exclaimed. Realizing his error he glanced down at the blade in his hand, then up at the prince in horror.
“Forgive us, we couldn’t know.” It was certain and painful death to bare your blade to any Royal.
"Don't fear. Your care and diligence do you honor. Secrecy drives us tonight and we must leave immediately for Nubia. Sheathe your weapons."
Knowing that something dreadfully amiss must be going on, but relief at knowing his life wasn’t forfeit the captain hurried his crew into action.
"Quietly, we want our departure to go as unnoticed as possible."
Within minutes we had cast off unnoticed and were out in the slow moving current of the great river. A blessed breeze filling the sail and bearing us steadily up mother Nile to the south.
Standing in the stern, watching dark Thebes retreating behind us, Aahotepre stated "We shall return, and the traitors will pay." Turning forward once more, he turned his attention to me and to the practical. "Now let's take a look at those wounds properly".
Delighted with the way this came out so a little longer text than normal.
My blood dripped to the ground, staining the creamy limestone, it would leave a trail that anyone with a nose, or eyes could easily follow unless I took action. Hekiab would be mad, more cleaning, why that triviality occurred to me just now I don't know, it was utterly ludicrous to be concerned about such things at a moment like this, and suppressed a slightly hysteric giggle.
Lifting my fingers to my shoulder, I probed the gashes, suppressing a groan of pain. They were deep but didn't seem to have reached any major blood vessels or tendons which was good. The damage was extensive however and my shoulder hurt worse than anything I had ever felt before, preventing me lifting my arm. A thick rope of sluggish red ran down the full length of my arm, having saturated the fur, along my fingers and dripping from the tips of my claws.
Looking around I spotted the linen drape, drifting lazily in the cooling nighttime desert breeze, it would serve. Otter claws may not be sharp, but they were more than sufficient to rip the fabric into strips, and I quickly bound up my shoulder. All members of the royal household received basic first aid training from an early age. Beyond the theory of my training, I was also well practiced, prince Aahotepre's love of hunting, had provided plenty of opportunities for me to hone my skills. Although, thank the gods, I had never had to deal with any serious injuries, hunting was dangerous and there wasn't an expedition in which someone didn't return with at least a few scrapes, cuts or other wounds which had to be field dressed before returning to the physicians and priests to do a proper job.
I wondered what had become of my friend. Should I go to the Royal apartments? Search for and try to aid him, or should I flee from Thebes, run to the countryside, to my family estates, departing hopefully unnoticed? If my prince was already dead, then surely the latter was my best and certainly safer course, but it wasn't a hard decision. I couldn't desert him if there was even the slightest chance that there was anything that I could do.
We had been friends for many inundations of the great river, since shortly after I was a child of 6, freshly arrived in the palace. My family had sent me to the court for tutelage, and to act as a companion for the prince. He and I were of an age, and my family of noble heritage, but with few chances of political advancement, (being of foreign origins we were outside of the normal hierarchy of the palace and considered neutral or at least not worth involving in the general power intrigues).
We had been born within the same month, indeed within days of each other, but the prince and I were as different as is possible for two energetic children of 6. His majesties lionine heritage had made him broad of shoulder and chest, strong, with piercing golden eyes, the first shadows of a black mane around his shoulders and atop his head, and a mercurial disposition. I was smaller, lighter, and more serious, my lithe otter physique making me look much younger than my age, and topped by the white hair which I hated but which others loved to ruffle. The first weeks of my stay in the palace had been a bad time for me. I missed home dreadfully and moped around, providing poor company for his majesty, who also wasn’t any too happy to see me and ignored me, and complaining loudly to anyone who would listen about this new interloper into his domain.
That changed with an incident which occurred about 3 weeks after my arrival, with the start of the inundation. Each great flood there was a huge celebration, the fields flooded and the workers were freed from their labors for a while. The people gathered to relax, thank the gods for their beneficence and for the promise of a fuitful next harvest. Great celebrations and rites were held all along the river banks and the Royal household even moved to the ceremonial palace closer to the river with its royal dock, to join the crowd and lead the flotilla of ships which would cross to the great temples on the solstice.
Up to that point I had lived on my families rural estates upriver, along the border with Nubia, and had never seen a city so huge and magnificent, or any sort of celebration comparable to the wild riot of colors and masses of people who thronged the temples and river banks for the great inundation festival of Thebes. The entire court was in an uproar, packing, moving, unpacking, preparing feasts, everyone with too many jobs to do and running feverishly around. The excitement of the event broke through my melancholy, and it had been easy to slip away unnoticed in all of the bustle and confusion.
I was sneaking along, hugging the postern wall, making my way toward the gate and then out into the city when I was grabbed from behind, a paw clamped over my mouth.
“Quiet.”
It was Aahotepre, it seemed the prince had the same idea as myself. He vowed me to secrecy, and we slipped out of the door together spending the most marvelous afternoon lost and anonymousamidst the crowds. I had brought a few gold talents with me, and so we purchased a few, normally forbidden, sweetmeats and pastries stuffed with walnut paste and dripping with honey (the prince, not used to such matters had not thought to bring any money).
As the afternoon drew to a close we sat in the sun, on the plinth of the great obelisk marking the processional way to the precinct of Amun-Re. Licking honey from our fingers and claws and watching the crowds bustle past. The mass of mixed citizenry, cheetahs and ibexes of the upper river, the lions and buffalo of the middle Nile, the gazelles and foxes of the deep desert. All dressed in a riot of different festival colors, all hurrying along with their own purposes, bearing foods, gifts, and dressed in their finest for the festivities.
"Maybe it will be good to have you around after all." he said, extending a hand.
My homesickness forgotten I grinned and grasped him by the wrist in return. That was the start of our friendship, of course we caught hell when we tried to sneak back in, our absence had been noticed and the guards had combed the palace and grounds and were now on high alert. I had been sore from the punishment for days after but it was worth it, every stroke. Although we were only in the ceremonial palace for the one month of the celebration, it was enough to cement our friendship, and I look back on that time as one of the happiest and most carefree of my life. We were young enough that there were few expectations and demands on our time, so we ran wild, swimming in the river (the only physical feat at which I far outshone his highness), scaring the waterfowl, and hunting imaginary crocodiles amongst the fantasy reed beds of stone pillared halls, creating a glorious racket and disturbance.
After we moved back to the main palace, and the celebration was over, it was decided we *ahem* suffered too much freedom, and so studies, our training started in earnest. Although neither of us we untintelligent, we were at best indifferent students having only passing interest in formal studies and far too much energy to sit still, we took every chance to play truant. Much to the exasperation of the Royal household, the tutors, and most particularly the palaces major domo, Hekiab. He was a portly vain buffalo, who reveled in the importance and respect which his position gave him, kept his horns well polished and his robes a spotless white. Two children who delighted in breaking the rules, and bringing home as much mud, dirt and bugs as paws, fur and loincloths would allow, were the ultimate disruption to his universe. Unable to criticize the prince, I was the one who generally bore the brunt of his criticism, and more than a few cuffs of his (trust me) hard hooves, but it was worth every curse and clout, for the freedom and fun which we found on such exploits.
I admit with shame, that we also took to teasing him, following him around the palace, dirtying the places he had just inspected and disordering things which he had just overseen being tidied became a fun game for days when weather or events denied us wider freedoms. His muttered comments and stamping hooves warned us of his approach, so he never caught us directly and could only fume in the echos of our stifled laughter facing the resulting messes. As we grew older, our lessons took up more of our time, military training, and hunts, took more of our time and we lost interest in such things, but he always was short tempered with us thereafter.
Years passed and we grew, a good diet, and constant physical training showed, I grew to a strong young man, my reflexes and martial skills had given me a solid physique, but I should always be short, and slight of stature, only slightly larger than the Fennecs. Aahotepre, blessed by his royal lineage seemed to pile on muscle at the mere thought of lifting a sword and grew faster than the papyrus. Presently I only came up to his shoulders, then as his black mane filled in, I only came up level with his chest. My stature became a source of continuing annoyance to me, and a problem for our martial training, I tried continuously to keep up with him, but couldn’t reach as far, swing as hard, run as fast.
As our sparring continued with wooden blades, I was becoming vastly overmatched by his physique. Seeing my frustration, and also an opportunity to bring in new challenges and techniques the royal arms master took us on different tracks. Aahotepre focusing on heavier weaponry, which he could wield and which would suit him better. Such weaponry was the tradition of the royal family and worked well after they were no longer mounted in the war chariots and were on foot. When wielded well and backed up by shieldbearers and members of the royal bodyguard acting in a unit it was difficult for anyone to attack, and deadly to face.
For me he selected a lighter shorter sword and long dagger, and I trained me in the desert style, focused on lightning speed, evasion, reading my opponent, spotting an opportunity, then darting in with a strike and then flowing back out before the counterstrike. This would be less useful in a pitched battle where safety depended upon shields and protecting your neighbors, but was highly effective in smaller groups or in single combat with larger opponents where to close would mean death. Although I dearly longed to be able to match the prince blow for blow I was at least able to maintain some degree of challenge to my friend. Our bouts ended invariably with me being knocked to the ground, nursing a bruised arm, leg or side but I was able to get in at least a couple of hits of my own first. Sometimes I nursed the conceit that these would have ended the fight earlier if we had been fighting with real weaponry.
Aahotepre's passion for hunting I believe developed partly in response to this greater pull on our time, as a form of escape from the strictures and structure of palace life and duty which bound us more closely with each passing season. Outside of good hunting seasons he would listen to the petitions which came in from all over the kingdom. As soon as one came in complaining of people menaced or taken by the wildlife of the desert, or the river, he would organize and lead the expedition to deal with the menace. Although I didn’t share his driving passion for these hunts, I loved the journeys, the packing of everything which would be needed for weeks of travel and survival, the chance to see a new town and the people.
It was on one of these hunting trips, in the year of my sixteenth inundation, that everything changed. We had been despatched to deal with a rogue elephant responsible for the destruction of a granary and the deaths of the two cubs of the cheetah plaintiff. Word reached us of the death of his father, the pharoah Anati, beloved of Ra. His death was complete unexpected, as he had been in full health when we had left, but death comes fast and from many directions, even for the beloved of the gods, insects, food, accidents, the will of the gods could be fickle. We turned around, and hurried back to the palace, a more somber party than the one which had set forth less than a week before in such high spirits. Aahotepres mother, Hentaneb, had died with his birth, and his father inconsolable, in mourning, had refused to remarry and with Anati's passing there was a no immediate person to ascend to the throne.
Aahotepre, being too young to rule, would need a regent for the until his ascent to the throne in some two years, so the lords of the three kingdoms met and appointed one from amongst their number. Sakir-Har, an elder jackal, from the lower kingdom was selected, he was the greatest of the three lords who ruled over the swampy northern delta, from his palace at Lahun. A large man by jackal standards I only came up to his shoulder, with broad shoulders and a strong jawline he cut a distinguished figure, darkly furred with a frosting of white along both sides of his muzzle, he must have been dashing in his youth. He was an experienced administrator and leader, had managed his lands successfully and repelled numerous invasions from across the Sinai. He would supervise and provide guidance for the two years until my friend was of an age to take up the reins.
He was a gift from the gods and managed to weld the diverse opinions and bind the power struggles of the council back together to a single cohesive body rapidly, the uproar of Anati's death was quickly and professionally quietened. The funerary procession and ceremony carried out without a hitch, the body of the departed king preserved for all time.
To manage the kingdom more efficiently he brought in some additional advisors of his own, strictly in a secondary role, and at his own cost, lest charges of embezzlement should be levelled, and with each one came guards. This caused some rivalry between the established palace order and these new arrivals, but he kept tight control on his own people and any troubles which occasionally emerged were rapidly and impartially, if a little harshly, dealt with. The guilty party, his own man, or member of the court, the offender often smarting under the lash.
He drew Aahotepre further into the councils, grooming him for leadership and continuing the job his father had been doing, readying him to rule. Not a member of the council, I had the more dubious pleasure of standing around at the back of these endless meetings, it was assumed that I would become an advisor after the prince rose to be king so I needed to be familiar with the council. For the moment however my role was to stand, silently, for hours, “learning” from the collected wisdom of the council. The wisdom that I most admired at the time, was that the council was wise enough to have seats for themselves whilst making everyone everyone else stand, ensuring that they could, if nothing else outlast anyone else in the room.
It was the start of the dry season, harvest looked good and the crops were ripening nicely in the fields according to the ibex scribe who had just left, the next order of business was a series of attacks by hippos, a short distance down river. Predictably, Aahotepre, stuck in the council chambers for months now, immediately volunteered us to deal with the animals, and wouldn’t listen to any objections.
Accordingly we started preparations for departure that same afternoon, as Aahotepre was determined to head out early the next day. This sudden event may have saved our lives, as much as anything else, shortening a planned timeline and dictating a more rapid move. As I settled on my bed to sleep that night I was carefree looking forward to the morrow, possibly the last time I will ever be able to go to sleep that completely at ease.
It must have been several hours later when I awoke, my small oil lamp had gone out, and my chamber was lit by the faint shine of the crescent moon, coming in through slits high up on the wall, and from the balcony. The fine woven linen curtains fluttered and snapped in the breeze. Something had woken me, but I was fairly certain it wasn’t the snap of a curtain. Something else, but what? My speed and training served me well, a shadow detached itself from the headboard and I didn't wait to see details as it lunged toward me, I was already in motion, rolling aside. The bronze claw extenders,which had been meant to pierce my chest instead gashed deep furrows in my shoulder, and embedded themselves deeply in the bed as I rolled further, falling from the bed to the ground.
My left arm burned yet felt curiously numb, but my right was unharmed, reaching out, I felt the tip of the scabbard, on the ground, where my sword leant up against the chair. I pushed, the tip slid forward, the pommel of sword fell forward toward me and into my hand, just as I had hoped.
The assassin had freed his claws and was advancing purposefully toward me, the shadows of the room preventing his seeing that I was now armed. As he advanced he passed through a beam of moonlight and I could see the golden fur and short muzzle, scraggly mane surrounding his face, the black ear tips, the distinctive white marking under his left eye. I may not have known his name, but I recognized him immediately, he was one of the bodyguards who had come up with the latest batch from Lahun. I scrambled backward as if afraid (there wasn’t much acting for this part) concealing my sheathed blade in the shadows of my body, then as he came into range I flicked and swept with my sword arm in a single motion. The flick sent the scabbard clear across the room, freeing the blade, and then the sweep drew the sword up and across his neck. I felt the resistance of flesh and cartilage parting beneath the blade as it cut through his neck, a single stroke propelled by years of training and the strength of desperation. He grasped at his throat, silenced forever, and pitched forward. His blood a rapidly spreading black shadow on the floor. I struggled upright and moved toward the door, intending to call for the guard, when I heard another voice.
“Hurry, once this one is dead we have others on the list, and there are still many guards left alive.”
The entire encounter had taken place in almost total silence, the bed absorbing the sound of his blow, the flight of my scabbard muffled by a curtain, and then the assassins death making no more noise than the rustling of the curtain. I realized that there was another just outside the room keeping watch, waiting for his colleague, having deemed it only needed one to strike someone dead in their sleep. Then the import of his words struck me. "Others", Aahotepre, my prince, was in danger, this was no personal score, it could only mean treachery of a larger scale, it had to be Sakir, the blow would be deadly from such a close and competent advisor.
How many bodyguards and soldiers had Sakir got in the palace and city, fifty, one hundred, five hundred? I wish I had paid more attention but I hadn't even considered such an event. With surprise on their side with number even at the lower end of my guesses, it would be enough to overpower the household guard. Maybe, if the full guard, stationed outside the palace, could be roused it could be put down, how many of them would be loyal, and would they be able to react in time?
I heard the soft pad of unshod feet on the stone, and a long muzzled head poked around the edge of the doorway, its pointed ears and neck clearly outlined in the light from the constantly burning corridor lamps. His eyes, fresh from the well lit corridor didnt adjust instantly to the darkness of the room, and before he could spot me or make out the body of his colleague I jumped forward janking him into the room. He staggered forward, reaching for me, off balance. By luck his claws caught and ripped my left ear painfully, but it was to be his last act. Before he could regain his footing, I brought the edge of my sword under his chin and cut deeply. His ka fled from his body, his blood pooling alongside that of his companion on the floor.
I had been lucky, darkness and the element of surprise had helped me twice now, both of the assassins had died silently and quickly without having the chance to make noise or alert others. Once outside my room I could no longer count upon it continuing.
My blood dripped to the ground, staining the creamy limestone, leaving a trail that even the most scent blind could follow. Hekiab was going to be mad. I clamped my fingers to my shoulder suppressing a groan as this pulled open the gashes….
The makeshift dressing wasn't great, and my left arm still burned and hung numbly. I hoped that the blade hadn't been poisoned, but had neither the time the herbs nor the dressings to do a better job, or to deal with it further. I had made my decision, providence smiled in that my pack, prepared for the hunt, was ready to go, its bulk and spear would be a danger to me at the moment, but it contained all that we would need for at least a few days and I moved it to the balcony.
Taking the rope, which had been coiled on top, I attached it to a corner of the bed. If. No, think positively. When, I had got the prince we would need a way out. My room looked out onto the gardens, a small well maintained oasis within the palace. As a minor member of the court I normally wouldn’t have rated such fine quarters, but the prince had insisted, and we now had reason to be grateful for his obstinacy.
I crept into the hallway, it was empty, as I moved cautiously along its length, darting from statue to statue, I spotted the slumped form of one of the palace guards, hurriedly concealed behind a statue of Osiris. One guard at least had been loyal, and paid for it with his life, there was no sign of others. Maybe he hadn’t gone quietly, could it have been the noise of his death struggle that had awoken me, saving my life, I didn’t wait to check how he had died. I whispered a blessing to his spirit, and continued down the the corridor into the colonnaded hall.
This large beautifully painted room was the meeting point for all of the residential wings of the palace, and separated the quarters from the public side, with its meeting rooms and audience chambers. In a few hours it would be busy, it's large court and pillared cloister thronging with people, but right now it was silent, lit only by the light coming from each of the entry halls. Again the guards who should have been here were all absent, and it was eerily quiet.
Years of practice in sneaking around the palace had taught me the best ways to remain unobserved and I had automatically crept behind the pillar to the left, moving from shadow to shadow. I was about to move on to the next pillar, when I heard footfalls. The flick of an ear, and I was able to tell the direction, they were coming from the advisors wing. I lent forward carefully, until I could see the shadows that were cast across the court, but not so far that I would be visible to them.
From the shape of their shadows, it was obvious that they were more jackals. Almost all of the jackals in the palace had come with Sakir from the north, furthermore I could see that they were armed. Certain that they were up to no good, I was glad of my concealment and pressed back against the cold stone of the pillar, drawing my tail close and making sure that no part of me was visible.
“Come, this way.”, one gestured with a paw, and they moved off toward the corridor of the royal wing.
I crept soundlessly behind them, keeping my toes and claws pulled as far up as possible, walking with the flat of my pads, to avoid scraping a claw or making any other sound on the stone. With them facing away from me now, I risked peeking out around the pillar, to see them properly. I was right, two of them, both jackals, neither of them guards whom I recognized. One held a spear, the other a set of claw extenders, like my own would be assassin. My heart leapt, if they were headed to the princes chambers now, then that meant I wasn’t too late, Aahotepre may yet live.
Other than those two, myself and the statues of the gods lining the walls, the Royal corridor was empty. Where were his guards? There should have been four of them standing watch outside his bedchamber, along the walls, watching for trouble. Instead, only the assassins to be seen. I hesitated, hiding behind a large statue of Hathor, what should I do, call for help, try to take both of them myself? If the guards were missing then it was probably too late to call for help, anyway, I may the only help right now in the whole palace, certainly I was the only help nearby. Whilst I thought, they reached the entrance to my friends bedroom and, with a motion to the second to wait outside, the one with the claws moved inside. His friend watching from the doorway.
They were separate, to try to fight both, injured as I was would have been certain death, instead, here was an opportunity. I had not a minute to lose, while he was looking into the room I ran down the hallway toward him, silently as I could. You cannot run and be silent however, the scraping of my claws of the slap of my bare feet betrayed my presence. Alerted, he turned as I approached, spear raising, much too slowly however to be of any good to him, spears are a wonderful weapon when your enemy can be held at a distance. Once your opponent is within their range, they become little more than an entangling annoyance, especially when faced with one who had been trained as I had.
The jackal opened his mouth to howl a warning I closed the remaining distance and embraced him, bringing my sword up, in, under the ribs on his left side slicing through his vitals under his ribs to the heart. His eyes widened, and lost their focus, glazing over. Osiris would have to weigh this heart in two separate scales, and I doubted either half would be lighter than the feather of Ma’at. His final breath departed in a long slow exhalation, and he collapsed limp against me.
His spear, freed by his failing grasp tumbled free, falling toward a noisy encounter with the floor. It would alert his friend, but what could I do, my right hand held my sword, my left numb and useless, it was taking all my balance and strength to prevent collapsing under his dead weight. Thinking quickly, I swept my tail around, the sharp bronze blade cutting small furrows in my flesh as the spear caught, rolled down silently, then stopped where I had crooked up the tip.
I lowered the body to the ground, and peaked around the doorframe. The princes room was lit by two oil lamps hanging above his desk, but his bed was in shadows. In the midst of these shadows I could make out the shape of the assassin, arms raised, ready to strike.
He was too far, there was no way i would make it in time I charged. Remembering my lessons in command, I called out “Halt” as powerfully as I could whilst I sprinted forward. Whether due to a lifetime of military obedience, or the shock of the unexpected I don’t know, but he turned to look, giving me the seconds of delay I needed and I barreled into him, my momentum sending us crashing forward onto the bed. I desperately grappled with the assassin, I had dropped my sword when we had collided, not that it would have been much use in these close quarters. I was smaller than my opponent, with one arm pretty much out of action, even with my training, it wasn’t long before he overpowered me. One clawed paw cut deep furrows in my chest as he held me down, the other raised to end my life.
A growl, a flash of non metal black claws, and the weight on my chest was gone. The assassin screamed, one half of his face now a mass of lacerated flesh, the eye missing. With a second blow Aahotepre knocked him unconscious, or dead, to the ground, I didn’t care which.
“Sire, you must come with me. Treachery.”
I struggled for breath and the room swam before my eyes.
"Your guards, gone, you are in danger."
“Hush, you are hurt." He said, checking me over, noting the blood drenched field dressing on my arm, the gouges in my chest, the numerous scrapes and cuts.
"I'd like to bind those, but right now they aren't life threatening, and we cannot stay here. Do you think you can move?"
I nodded, lying, and his disbelief was obvious. He wasted precious moments handing me a rock crystal goblet from his bedside. I gulped down the water within, its icy flow down my throat chilling my stomach, it worked magic however and i felt refreshed, the room, which had been swimming before my eyes steadied a little. I felt strong enough to trust my voice not to quaver and gave a proper answer.
"Yes sire, I can do what's needed. If we get back to my room I have a way out, then escape to the barracks, rally the army."
"As good a plan as any, and the further we are from here, the safer. Come, lean on me."
He looped an arm under me and I was grateful for his strength as he levered me up to my feet, and half led, half carried me a few steps, my legs shaking under me.
"You can do it." We walked me to the door, and he checked with a quick glance that the hallway was clear we moved out. He was right, I could do it, as the shock receded, my resolve and my legs stiffened and I was able to walk, only slightly unsteadily, back down to my rooms.
Thankfully we met no further trouble on route and my quarters were as I had left them.
"Good work" he commented, gesturing at the two dead assassins decorating my floor.
He took in the rest of the room at a glance, spotting the rope and hunting pack.
"I guess I had better carry the pack given your arm. It'll be just like that time when you messed up against that warthog in Toranth."
"You know I was saving your life too that time." I blurted, it had been a long running discussion.
"I seem to recall some nonsense statement like that before, what was it you claimed?"
He kept his voice light, sensing I needed the support of something normal
"Oh yes, that's it, you claimed that it would have made it all the way up along the spear I had just stabbed it with until you leaped in and finished it with your sword." He smiled.
"I seem to recall things differently, I remember that you stumbled, and that you just happened to fall forward, getting your arm ripped on his tusks. It was pure luck that your sword hit the creature at all." He knew as well as I that even with my sword in its neck, the boar had clawed its way within inches of him before dying.
The memory was a fond one and we had often teased each other about it. The sight we presented after the hunt, both of us covered in blood (much of it my own), emerging from the forest, leaning heavily on each other had so terrified the Royal attendants that two of them had fainted. The doctors had spent longer dealing with the hysterics than with my injuries, which had only taken a couple of quick stitches.
I knew that he was talking just to keep me going, re-ground me, but even knowing that it worked and I needed every single bit of strength I had as we started climbing down the rope toward the gardens below. The prince had insisted on going first despite my protestations that I may weaken and fall on him my injured shoulder was weakening rapidly and was a solid mass of pain.
We had barely started down when we heard a noise below. I risked a glance down, a patrol, more northeners. They were just below us and off to the right, thankfully we had not gone far enough and we were still fairly invisible against the ornamental stonework, the rope hung below us, swaying with our movements, coiled at the base. For the moment it was unnoticed, but it wouldn’t be long. Aahtopre froze, and I gritted my teeth, locked my bad hand in a death grip around the rope, I reached with the other toward my sword hilt, ready to throw myself down upon them, sweat immediately starting to form with the pain.
Across the garden another shadow moved, I stared, trying to make out the shape. Moonlight glistened off a pair of polished horns as Hekiab stepped into the moonlight, his eyes flicked up to us, my heart stopped. He took in the scene at a glance, I saw his broad nostrils flare and his ears flicked. Then he strode purposefully to the right, deliberately into the line of sight of the patrol, his hooves clapping loudly on the stones.
“Halt who passes.” He was immediately challenged, they ran forward past the rope unnoticed, and up to him, seizing him roughly.
“Its I, Hekiab, sirs.” He said in his most ingratiating tones. “I was just doing the rounds, drawing up the list of tasks for the day.”
“Come with us, struggle and you die.” They grasped him firmly, and marched him off, leaving the garden empty.
We owed the old buffalo our lives, I let out a breath, barely stifling a scream of pain as I was able to release the pressure on my bad arm.
By the time I reached the bottom it was only the princes arms steadying me that stopped me falling to the ground, and coudln’t have held myself on the rope a second longer. The palace was silent, although it had only been minutes since the attempt on my life, it seemed like hours, our luck couldn't hold. There was no way to know how much longer our absence would remain undiscovered, the army held our best hope of safety, but to reach them we had to get out of the secured palace. Our years of truancy and detailed knowledge of the palace served us well, we avoided another patrol at the far side of the gardens, and a second by the kitchen entrance.
The postern gate, our favorite exit, was both well lit and well guarded, and not by the palace guard. More of Sakirs private troops stood sentry, and they looked alert, carefully watching the inside and guarding the door. I slumped against the wall.
"I'm sorry, there's no way we can get past them quietly, not with me like this. Maybe I can distract them, and then you can sneak past."
"No, you are not spending your life like that. There are other choices. I'm going to let you in on a secret only known to the family."
Grasping my arm he pulled me back upright and back toward the stables. The horses nickered and stirred as we crept in through the doors.
“Their odor will hide our scent. Its why the passageway was added here.” Aahtopre commented.
The horses were spooked by the smell of blood, but had been trained for pulling a chariot into battle, so didn’t neigh or make much noise. They also knew us and our smell well, and so were quickly settled at a quiet murmur from the prince. He pulled me toward the Royal chariot enclosure and inside the stall as we squeezed past the stays we heard the first sounds of alarm drifting through the night.
Two voices approached, hard boots ringing on the stone, they passed along outside the stables, their words muffled but still distinct.
"Find them." It was Sakirs authoritative tone.
"kill them, if you fail then it will be your death. Also, double the guard on all the gates, we cannot have the prince escaping before our reinforcements arrive and we have the whole city sealed and under martial law. Is there word?"
"Yes my liege, we just heard, your plan was a complete success, the army was taken completely by surprise. It's commanders have been rounded up, killed or arrested, and they are just mopping up now. There is no chance of any organized resistance from that quarter. Once they are complete they will send replacements to the city gates and walls."
"Excellent, at least that went according to plan." There was an edge of menace in his voice, and as the footsteps moved further off the discourse faded into an imperceptible murmur.
It was too dark for me to see anything of Aahotepre, other than the gleam of his eyes in the dark, and I fixed on these.
"What now sire?" I was downcast, I had pinned my hopes on my plan of quickly fleeing to the barracks and putting down the insurrection. That path now appeared closed.
He pondered for a moment, then "the hunting expedition boat is readied. I'd trust that crew with my life, and as it wasn’t readied until late yesterday, its possible that they haven’t thought of it. We will head there, and then flee south, upriver. Sakirs troops and power base lie to the north, in the delta, and that is where people will be loyal to him. My families origins lie to the south with the Nubian kingdoms, and in that direction lies our best chance, we shall flee in that direction, and then see."
Having decided, he swung back into action, pulling me into the far corner, above us the leather reins and tack hung, well oiled and arranged on pegs, or laid out neatly on shelves. Running his fingers along the underside of one of the shelves, he stopped, and with a sharp tug pulled something unseen. A click, and part of the wall shifted and then swung open revealing a doorway leading in and down into total blackness.
“Go on.”
I had to duck, and the prince was forced to bend almost double, to fit through the gap and as the door swung shut behind us absolute darkness closed in. Strangely I actually felt safe, for the first time since waking up, huddled here in the darkness pressed against the prince.
"Clack", a percussion, sounding deafeningly loud in the small space. "Clack, clack", a shower of sparks and the warm glow of a lantern illuminated the tunnel. The passage revealed was scarcely wide enough here for his shoulders, and I could see that it narrowed further at the edge of the lamplight. Around us were numerous alcoves, stuffed to the very top with all matter of carefully wrapped parcels and goods.
"Do you think that you can carry anything?"
"It's only my arm and chest that are hurt, and my tail, ears, I tailed off.”
This wasn’t the way to say it.
“My legs are fine, your majesty, I can carry anything." I protested.
In the light I could see the doubt written large on his face, and disbelief in those golden eyes. I gazed levelly back at him, challenging him to correct me.
"Ok," he nodded acquiescing.
"There is a stash of money, weapons and other things we will need here." He gestured toward the alcoves.
"It was intended for more than just the two of us, and we don't have time to pick and choose in detail, but we can get the essentials. Here, you carry this."
He bundled some bags and packages up in a blanket, looped one end under my arm and tied it across my opposite shoulder. Forming a serviceable, if slightly bulky sling, apart from the occasional scrape against my chest wounds it would be no difficulty to carry. He then picked up a sword and scabbard, looping it around my waist and cinching it tight with a firm motion.
"Much better, now your hand is free." He said taking my old bloody weapon from my hand, I'd forgotten that I was even carrying the thing, and gazed at my bloodied hand as if seeing it for the first time.
He claimed a second and much larger parcel for himself along with a sword and a couple of daggers. Finally he threw a dark cloak over me, and as the folds settled he said "These may be hot, but they will help us to stay unobserved in the city, and will hide that white crest of yours. Right now secrecy is our best chance."
I shook off my stupor "Highness, we need to move now. You heard what he said about reinforcements. We have to get out before the net closes around us."
Nodding he turned and started down the tunnel, carrying the only light. I followed close behind, almost touching the tip of his tail as the tunnel dipped and rose, twisted and turned, finally emerging behind another concealed door in a house somewhere on the river side of the palace.
As we emerged from the tunnel Aahotepre raised a finger to his lips, signaling for silence, he doused the lantern, slid the bolt and cracked open the front door of the house. A furtive glace outside showed all clear, and he gestured for me to follow. So we proceeded, darting alley to alley, house to house, hugging the shadows,down toward the docks. The city, and particularly the docks started work early, thankfully that also meant that right now everyone was asleep, and we easily avoided the noisy city watch patrols on their rounds, word had not yet spread of the goings on at the palace. We went unobserved by no one other than a drunkard, reeking of beer and wine crawling home along the gutter and he barely glanced in our direction as we passed him.
The Sabt bobbed at anchor, it's densely packed reeds brushing softly against the dressed stone as the lapping of the river raised and lowered it. The ships captain and crew were sleeping aboard, and awakened instantly as we stepped aboard from the shore. Presuming us to be robbers and thieves, they surrounded us, naked blades in hand.
"Stay" Aahotepre quietly commanded, lifting the hood of his cloak.
"Sire" the captain, a powerfully built ibex with a large pair of curved and ridged horns, exclaimed. Realizing his error he glanced down at the blade in his hand, then up at the prince in horror.
“Forgive us, we couldn’t know.” It was certain and painful death to bare your blade to any Royal.
"Don't fear. Your care and diligence do you honor. Secrecy drives us tonight and we must leave immediately for Nubia. Sheathe your weapons."
Knowing that something dreadfully amiss must be going on, but relief at knowing his life wasn’t forfeit the captain hurried his crew into action.
"Quietly, we want our departure to go as unnoticed as possible."
Within minutes we had cast off unnoticed and were out in the slow moving current of the great river. A blessed breeze filling the sail and bearing us steadily up mother Nile to the south.
Standing in the stern, watching dark Thebes retreating behind us, Aahotepre stated "We shall return, and the traitors will pay." Turning forward once more, he turned his attention to me and to the practical. "Now let's take a look at those wounds properly".
Category Artwork (Digital) / Portraits
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File Size 191.9 kB
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